Invisible Walls
by Penelope Applegate
Summary: "She wanted to lash out and hurt him and push him away; she didn't want to feel this weakness, this vulnerability. She didn't want to get hurt again." AU post ROTS. Padme and Anakin have gotten everything they thought they wanted. But turmoil in the Republic and the stress of raising a family unexpectedly disrupt their marital bliss. Does love truly conquer all?
1. Chapter 1

**Oh hey guys! Long time, no write. I'm venturing into Star Wars now as I've recently become re-obsessed.**

 **Disclaimers: The following is in no way shape or form an endorsement of dysfunctional relationships. It's merely an observation that even the greatest heroes have imperfections and even the most seemingly perfect relationships suffer trials. Also, very AU, and probably only a few chapters.**

 **Enjoy. Or don't. Either way, R &R, eh?**

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Padmé Skywalker rubbed her brow, exhaustion seeping into her bones. As much as she hated being away from her family, the Republic needed her. She had never ignored the call, and it was not something that she could do now simply because she had children. Her sense of duty compelled her.

If she was completely honest, being at the Senate Office Building was a source of relief these days. She felt she could finally breathe, an idea which seemed entirely counterintuitive. The war had ended four years prior, but the resulting turmoil had just begun. Anakin had indeed fulfilled the prophecy as the Chosen One, but certainly not in the way many had expected. Both the Jedi Order and the Sith had been brought to nothing. Palpatine was exposed, tried, and executed for his scheming and his actions. His false war had nearly crippled the Republic, and the vast majority was shocked and angered to learn that the Clone Wars had been a farce engineered by the man sworn to uphold the Galactic Constitution and protect the Republic from such threats. The Jedi Order as it had been known for thousands of years had been a casualty of the war as well. Their stringent application of the Jedi Code had led to their downfall. The citizens of the Republic had quickly turned on the Jedi, accusing them of being unreasonable and unfair to their members. It was believed that their incredibly lofty expectations set the Jedi up for failure, leading to their fall and to the existence of Sith such as Darth Tyranus and Darth Sidious. Love and attachment, for example, many reasoned were natural and necessary elements of life, which in fact served as an impetus in individuals to uphold the very purpose of the Code - to keep the balance between light and dark in the galaxy. Another point of contention was what detractors called the kidnapping of innocent children. Those children were taken from parents a young age, and their treatment amounted to brainwashing in the eyes of many. Those ones called for a change in the system, a change which would allow Force-sensitive children to grow to the age of consent before being accepted for training.

Facing such pressure from the citizens they were assigned to protect, the Jedi Order caved. The Council was disbanded, though some accepted the change less begrudgingly than others. However, the Jedi still believed that the Senate and its Chancellor should not be in control of wielders of the Force. They believed that the allegiance of the Jedi should lie strictly with the Force. The Old Code was still in the process of being reviewed and amended to reflect the changing times and to provide what the galaxy needed from the Force, though popular opinion did much to influence which Jedi were actually allowed to participate in the revision process.

One major change had affected her life directly.

Jedi were now allowed to form attachments, to love, and to marry, if they so chose.

This change paved the way for her to publicly announce her marriage to Anakin, and it was what kept her in office as a senator despite the potential for such a scandal as had never been seen in the Galactic Senate. The Queen of Naboo had seriously considered quietly removing Padmé and bringing her home, but other senators, Bail Organa included, had advocated for the Senator of Naboo. They had been instrumental in guiding the Queen to realize how this development could help propel forward the changes the Republic surely had to undergo, if only the Queen showed support for the Jedi-turned-savior of the Republic and his childhood love. Though Padmé secretly feared that this plan would backfire, the citizens of the Republic wholeheartedly embraced the couple and relished the story of their romance, to the dismay of many in the former Jedi Order.

She shook her head, remembering that tumultuous time. It mattered no longer. Anakin was hers, and hers to claim openly and honestly. He had stood beside her uncompromisingly, refusing to be swayed by any contrary opinion. If not for his strength, they may not have weathered the storm. With a sigh, she thought of how his enduring devotion had shaken her to the core and reminded her exactly why she had fallen for him in the first place.

They were the galaxy's power couple, beloved and held in awe.

Oh, how things had changed.

The paternity of her twins had been kept a heavily guarded secret for a over year. She knew more than a few had their suspicions, though they were too fearful to voice them after the conclusion of the war. In that time, Anakin was forced to maintain surreptitiousness in his visits with his new family. It hadn't been easy, but they had survived relatively unscathed. It had been a mere two years after that when she found out she was pregnant again. Amila, a name derived from Padmé's former Name of State, had been a welcome addition to their family... welcome by all except Padmé herself.

She really could not explain what was wrong, but after Amila was born, Padmé found herself... disconnected from her daughter. Initially, the wonder of this precious surprise tugged at the strings of her heart. Within a few days, however, she recognized a significant difference from the time following Luke and Leia's birth. She had been consumed with the tiny beings who were each somehow simultaneously she and Anakin and brightly shining individual personalities, all rolled into one little chubby bundle of love. She remembered kissing tiny toes and cuddling for hours and tickling the soft flesh of little rolls and deeply breathing in that unmistakable baby scent. She'd had the added benefit of being back home on Naboo with family for the first two months of the twins' lives. The Queen had graciously offered to allow her the standard maternity leave of two years, but Padmé declined, not only wanting to be back in the Senate at such a turbulent time but mostly wanting to be in close proximity to Anakin. He had miraculously and thankfully been able to attend the birth but was all too quickly called back to Coruscant for yet another planetary conflict. Despite the turmoil in her life, she had no problem whatsoever attaching herself to those tiny little beings under her care.

Now... she couldn't wait to get away from Amila.

It pained her to admit it, but she couldn't handle being anywhere near Amila. The constant screaming grated on her nerves. Though she was quickly and easily consoled in the arms of her father, Amila seemed to be painfully aware of the disconnect between mother and daughter. She refused to be placated by Padmé's desperate pleas, shushing, and rocking. Luke and Leia had made it seem so easy at the time. A soft caress across the forehead and a warm expression of love would rapidly soothe either twin. Not so with Amila. With every day that passed, Padmé began to feel more and more that her child was more of an inconvenience than a member of the family.

If she were completely honest, she would also admit that she herself was a large part of the problem. She was becoming increasingly irritable and short, even with the twins - even with Anakin. At first her scathing remarks would bring a look of surprise to his face, but progressively, he became numb to her verbal daggers. She was now accustomed to being on the receiving end of his pointed glares. The worst part was that she cared less and less. Deep down, she knew that she really was hurting him, though he was past the point of comfortably being able to admit it. Something within her kept her from minding or even passing beyond a vague consideration of his feelings.

Nothing they could possible throw at her in the Senate could compare to the misery awaiting her at home.

What once had been a safe haven had gradually become a sort of purgatory, though she wasn't quite sure for what she was being punished.

 _Oh, but there could be many possibilities._

She couldn't think of that at the moment. There was so much work in front of her. Particularly of interest was the bill she was currently supporting which would hopefully ensure quality healthcare for all citizens of the Republic, rich and poor. These things had to be her priority right now. Her husband understood. He had to know. He himself was pulled in all directions as one of the leaders of the new Jedi system. At any rate, it was hardly as if he was constantly present. The children were left in the competent care of Elay, a Coruscanti nanny who had come highly recommended by several other senators. She was hardly inexpensive, but Padmé felt Elay's experience and reliability was well worth the investment. She was certainly worth the peace of mind.

Padmé sighed, finally conceding that it was very unlikely she would get much work done in her current emotional state. Glancing at her holocomm for more than a brief moment, she considered contacting Elay to check on the children, less because she was genuinely interested in the welfare of her children and more because she felt that was what she was supposed to do as a mother. Shaking her head, she tapped her holocomm and did something she had not done for quite some time.

He answered quickly and seemed genuinely surprised when he did. "Is everything okay?" he queried immediately.

"Everything is fine," she assured her husband, slightly sorry to realize just how unaccustomed he had become to hearing from her during working hours. "I just..." Suddenly, she was at a loss for words. What could she say to explain her sudden and unexpected midday call? She didn't quite understand, herself, what had prompted this contact.

"Are _you_ okay?" he pressed further, getting directly to the point.

Reflexively, she nodded and put on a smile. "Yes, I'm fine. I suppose... I suppose I just wanted to speak with you."

"Oh." He now seemed quite dumbfounded, and she felt foolish, regretting her decision to reach out to him. In all likelihood, he had no desire to even hear from her.

"But if you're busy-" she offered as an excuse, should he wish to terminate the transmission.

"No, no," he denied, "it's all right, actually."

"Oh, okay, good."

They sat in silence for an agonizing moment which seemed to stretch out forever but probably lasted only several seconds. And then they both began to speak at once. Blushing, Padmé told him, "You go on first."

He gave her that lopsided smile, and her heart skipped a beat. She hadn't realized he still had the ability to make her insides do somersaults. "I was just saying that Ayana and I just finished sparring practice between these relentless and boring meetings."

Padmé gave him a small smile in return. Ayana Bal had been discovered just a year and a half ago on Nar Shaddaa. Growing up outside the Republic, she had never been formally trained as a Jedi despite being Force-sensitive. As a testament to her strength in the Force, she had managed to teach herself quite a few tricks, which was how she had been discovered during a diplomatic mission to Nal Hutta's moon. Senators who had pressed for a change in the Jedi Order had enthusiastically advocated for her being trained in the ways of the Force. They felt she could offer a fresh perspective for the Jedi and perhaps be a positive influence. It was thought that Anakin, being a stark representation of the long-awaited Jedi revolution, would be the best instructor. It seemed to be the case. Ayana had made astounding progress, surprising even Anakin. Padmé knew the Jedi needed all the help they could get in order to rebuild.

"How is your practice going?" she prodded, encouraging him to continue the conversation.

Anakin nodded. "Very well. She continues to make progress. She seems to be particularly fond of Shien So." Padmé had to ponder for a moment before recognizing Shien So as Form V of lightsaber combat. She silently congratulated herself on remembering at all.

"I am glad to hear it," she said sincerely. "That is excellent news."

"It is," he agreed, a tell-tale smirk spreading across his features. "Too bad she's no match for a real Jedi Master." This insult elicited an indignant cry from an invisible bystander and earned him a solid punch on the shoulder. His laugh made Padmé smile. Typical Anakin. Completely incapable of being serious and wholly unable to resist the opportunity to cast a barb, especially at a friend.

"You should be careful, Ani," she teased, "for she may just show you up one day. And then you will have to eat those words."

Her husband shook his head amiably. "Oh, I certainly doubt that." He turned his attention to the side, to something or someone she could not see. His eyes became focused on the distraction, so she didn't even attempt to recapture his consideration for the moment. At last he trained his eyes on her once more. "I should go. There's another meeting soon. Jocasta Nu has taken another research project upon herself, and she would like to present her findings. I can only imagine what fascinating topic she's chosen for today's exposition."

The smile Padmé offered was half-hearted now. He'd just answered his comm, and now he was ready to end the conversation. This was becoming rather typical of their interactions, though, so she shouldn't be surprised in the least. The sensation of rejection still nipped at the back of her mind, unbidden and unwelcome. "I understand. I don't want to hold you."

With an inclination of his head, he made motion to conclude the transmission, but he stopped short. "Was there something you needed? I don't mean to cut you off."

Padmé waved a hand at him, forcing the smile to remain on her face. "It's nothing important. It can wait," she affirmed, unwilling to divulge her true feelings. Showing vulnerability, admitting to her need for him... she loathed to think of it. Once long ago, she would have easily spoken her heart. That ease of communication had somehow gotten lost along the way. Besides that, there was a witness present, and this was hardly the time to start mending their marriage.

"All right," he replied, "I'll see you at home tonight." She nodded in response, and he terminated the connection. She sighed, trying not to think about the time when that statement would be succeeded by the endearment "my love," the time when the conversation was not over before they had expressed their affection for one another. Those days were gone. This was her life now, and there was no sense dwelling on the past.

Chiding herself for allowing her to be unnecessarily distracted, she returned her attention to the matters at hand. This bill was of supreme importance. It simply _had_ to pass.

* * *

Anakin chuckled to himself as he tucked his holocomm away, remembering Ayana's snide remark about the old Jedi librarian who would be presenting at the next meeting. He was quickly growing tired of these endless discussions which seemed to get them absolutely nowhere. There still was no formal order of the Jedi, and even if there was, the simple issue of deciding on a name for the group of Jedi was a whole barrel of skekfish in itself. No one wanted to reach inside that barrel.

He looked up at his companion with a smile. "You ready for a nap? I hope you brought a pillow."

Ayana pointed a look in his direction, a look he could interpret all too well. "I would rather cuddle with a Gaxxan brain slug," she said dryly, hands on her hips.

Anakin threw back his head and laughed at her absurd remark. "I should think that would be a very short cuddle, and a different sort of nap," he rejoined, earning a raised eyebrow and a smirk from Ayana.

"I'm sure," she murmured, casting her eyes down and kicking at some imperceptible spot on the floor. "I can only imagine."

He eyed her quietly for a moment, then stood abruptly. "Well, we ought not be late. Jocasta Nu will surely hunt us down if she has to. This information is _of paramount importance_ ," he intoned, making what turned out to be a very poor attempt to mock the librarian's verbiage.

In response to this pitiful effort, Ayana let out what could only be described as a cackle. "You sound nothing like her," she laughed.

"Well, I tried," Anakin countered, hoping his mild chagrin was not _too_ obvious on his visage.

"Mhm," was Ayana's gentle taunt in return. "Better next time, _Master_ Jedi." With that, she strutted confidently out of the sparring arena, arms swinging. Anakin followed behind.

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 **R &R. Observe. Postulate. Criticize. Discuss.**

 **Since I'm obsessing, I probably will update soon like. Probably.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Reviews are loved! This is not to say I expect you to fall all over yourself gushing, I just like hearing what readers think about the story thus far, where they think it will go, where they think it _should_ go... Ya know. Interacting and such.**

 **I digress. Moving on. I apologize for the tedium of the backstory in the previous chapter... It was just kinda necessary to set up the story. I promise it will move along soon. Again, not endorsing hurtful, dysfunctional relationships, blah blah blah. Just a different perspective on the epic romance tale.**

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It was late when Padmé arrived at home. Home on Coruscant was still 500 Republica, though they had moved to a larger apartment with four bedrooms, each with their own attached refresher, and an additional refresher for guests. It was not long after they moved that Padmé began to feel extreme guilt over the opulence of their extravagant home when countless others in the Republic did not even have a place to lay their head. Anakin insisted it was a necessary evil; the security of the building was unparalleled, and they were high profile figures with young children to consider. More than once, Padmé considered that she would much rather be at home on Naboo in the lake country than continue living such an excessive lifestyle on Coruscant. That would entail leaving her position as Senator of Naboo, however, and she could not bring herself to seriously consider such a thing. She loved the Republic, and she loved its citizens, so who could better serve their interests in the Senate? Really, her feelings on the matter were rather inconsequential. Anakin was instrumental to the restructuring of the Jedi. His duty prevented him from leaving Coruscant just as much as hers did, if not more so.

The apartment was dimly lit when she entered. She had expected that the children would already be in bed. Elay was a stickler when it came to bed time; the woeful pleas of small children did nothing to sway her. It was yet another thing Padmé appreciated about their nanny. Elay was nowhere to be found. It was likely she had already retired. These days, she slept in the baby's room. Padmé could hardly handle Amila in daylight hours. There was no conceivable way she could handle caring for the child all night long, especially considering the fact that she was often needed at her office early in the morning.

With a heavy sigh, Padmé removed her cloak and lay it on a nearby chair. She was nagged by only a twinge of guilt, knowing that one of the servants, likely Elay, would find it the next day and put it in its proper place. At the same time, she was too tired to care.

"Hello."

She turned to see Anakin exiting the kitchen eating a shuura fruit. If he was as tired as she felt, he hid it well. She knew he often got up in the middle of the night with the children, to comfort them after a bad dream or assist Elay in caring for the baby. It was supposed to be a secret, or so she thought because he was very careful to never wake her when he rose from their bed. On rare occasions, he did wake her, but more often than not it was the emptiness on his side of the bed that woke her. A few times, she quietly followed him, only to find him feeding the baby or rubbing one of the twins' back while softly coaxing them back to sleep. He always knew when they were awake. She imagined it must have something to do with the Force, as all of their children had a high midi-chlorian count and were obviously quite Force-sensitive.

"Hello," she greeted him quietly, and there the conversation stalled. They stood seeing one another, though not really seeing each other, eyes diverted to avoid the other's.

Finally, he broke the silence. "Did you have a productive day?" he asked, making himself comfortable on the arm of a nearby chair.

 _A productive day_ , she thought dryly. _That's what he would like to know about my day. Was I productive?_ "It was fine," was her short reply. Fine had been her standard response for some time now.

His brow furrowed slightly, but only for just a moment. "I'm glad to hear it," he said in return, keeping up their formal pretense. He took another bite of shuura, his eyes never leaving her.

She grew weary of these games, but pride stopped her from being the first to bare her heart. Pride - and guilt. Padmé couldn't understand what had happened to her after the birth of their third child, but she had changed. She was no longer who she used to be. She was miserable to live with, and she could somehow never be happy. This discord in their marriage was all her fault, and she knew it. Surely, he knew it, too.

"As for you? How was your day?" she politely asked, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"Busy," he admitted, "but that's nothing unusual. Jocasta Nu found pieces of the original Jedi Code buried deep within the archives. The information she brought to light may actually make a great difference."

Padmé raised an eyebrow, genuinely interested in the topic at hand. "Oh? Is that a good difference or a bad difference?"

"A good difference," he affirmed confidently. "Maybe we might start making real progress now," he muttered as an afterthought, eyes cast downward.

"Well, then, I'm glad she took the time to find and present that information, even if the meeting was boring," Padmé said, remembering his sarcastic words during their conversation earlier.

Anakin nodded. "I am, as well," he agreed. "I thought it would be much worse. I'm thankful I was disappointed." Padmé sighed, ready to turn and head back to their bedroom to retire for the night. His eyes found hers again, and inexplicably, she found herself rooted to the spot. There was something in his eyes that she hadn't seen in a long time. Sorrow? Remorse? Love? She couldn't tell anymore. The intensity of his gaze unnerved her.

"What?" she breathed, and suddenly found that her mouth was as dry as Tatooine.

He paused, obviously hesitant to speak his mind, which heightened the nervousness Padmé felt. _Don't_ , she hoped silently. _Please, not right now._

"What's happened to us, Padmé?" he asked softly, his voice so low she had to strain to hear him clearly.

She felt frozen. She wasn't sure what to say or what to do, and that was a feeling to which she was unaccustomed. She always had the answers, and when she didn't, she was delightfully brilliant at faking it. This... she could not fake.

He took her silence as encouragement to continue. "We used to talk more. We used to laugh. We used to play. We used to..." His blue eyed burned into her, sending a shiver down her spine. "We used to enjoy one another."

Padmé could hear her heart pounding in her ears, throwing her off balance all the more so. "I..." When she opened her mouth to speak, she found nothing there. She had no defense, no excuses - just the apprehension and guilt growing in her abdomen, spreading through her veins and infecting her body like a deadly disease.

"I understand we are both under pressure," he allowed. "This is a critical time for all of us. Before, we would rely on one another when things got difficult. But now..." His voice trailed away, and his eyes drifted towards the window, searching the Coruscant sky for an answer she couldn't (wouldn't?) provide.

She felt cornered, and with that realization came the defensiveness. It was easier to be defensive than to be weak and feel pain. A burning answer bubbled in her throat, though part of her didn't want to do this. She didn't want to unleash this frustration and anger on him tonight, not when he looked so... vulnerable. His eyes caught hers again, and her words died in her throat. He knew what she was thinking. He knew how she felt. Maybe he couldn't understand, but he could sense her inner turmoil. Why _did_ she insist on playing these games?

"I don't know," she finally conceded wearily, her hands twisting and pulling at each other in front of her. "I don't know what happened." She wanted to tell him the truth. She was an awful mother and an awful wife, and she had her doubts about herself as a senator. Three children had proved to be more than she could handle, and she wasn't even primarily responsible for them. She failed at that as well. She could never be around for her children. Instead they were being raised by Elay, and though Padmé trusted the nanny implicitly, she knew the nanny was no substitute for the children's real mother. She could change this, but she had no desire to do so. She didn't want to stop being a senator. She couldn't handle the thought of being the only one there for her children all day every day as they incessantly tugged and pulled at her and demanded attention she simply did not have the energy to give. This knowledge of herself only lead to self resentment. Did she not love her children enough? She tormented herself to no end over these thoughts every single day. But how could she explain this to Anakin?

And Anakin... He was so sure of himself, held himself together so well. He was so strong. He showed no weakness, not even with her any longer. He had taken on a great responsibility at only twenty-seven years old - rebuilding the Jedi. Though it was a tedious task, and he often had complaints, he did not falter or seem to second-guess himself. She envied him that. At the same time, she felt like a embarrassment in his overpowering shadow. Look at how she fell apart, even now, simply because motherhood had proved to be too much for her. She felt as though she did not deserve him, and the weight of their deception at the start of their relationship threatened to crush her. The galaxy at large had forgiven them long ago, and the few who refused to do so hardly mattered any longer. She could not forgive _herself_. She had almost guided Anakin to the dark side, had allowed herself to be a part of Palpatine's plan to manipulate Anakin's fall. How could she explain _this_ to her husband? How could she ask his understanding and forgiveness?

There was too much to be said, and she knew not where to begin or even how to express herself. She didn't feel that she genuinely _desired_ to express herself.

Anakin watched her mull over these thoughts in silence. After a few minutes passed, he stood and went into the kitchen. She wasn't sure if she was meant to follow but found that she was still rooted in place. He returned quickly, empty-handed, having obviously thrown away the remainder of his late night snack. He crossed the short distance to her and pulled her into his arms. She meant to resist but found she couldn't. Neither could she return his embrace. So she found herself standing there as cold as a statue as he attempted to provide some sort of comfort to her and bridge the gap between them. The warmth of his embrace could not reach deep into her core, where all of the fear, resentment, pain, and uncertainty festered and flourished.

At last, he sighed and pulled away, reaching up with his flesh hand to caress her cheek with a gentleness she had forgotten he possessed. "I still love you, Padmé," he whispered.

Suddenly, she was released from her invisible prison. Pushing him away abruptly, she turned on her heel and headed for their bedroom. 'I'm tired. I'm going to bed," were her last words to him for the night. She did not look back once. She did not want to see his heart written on his face.

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 **Any guesses what's bothering Padm** **é? A big fat e-high-five for you if you get it right.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, so I know I said I would maybe update frequently, but I lost my momentum, and it was winter break (got a full month off from college), so basically Netflix took over my life.**

 **Anyway! I'm back. Thank you all for your reviews... I enjoyed and appreciated the guesses. I promise to try not to leave you hanging for too long!**

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Anakin sighed, staring down at his folded hands. The meeting in the former High Council Chamber had ended quite some time ago. Ancient records of certain parts of the Jedi Code had been read, reread, analyzed, picked apart, critiqued, read again, and determined to be of no help at all. Well, that wasn't entirely true. At least they knew the path they _didn't_ want to traverse now.

This, however, was not the focus of his thoughts at this time. His conversation with Padmé the night before played repeatedly in his mind. He wished he knew where things went wrong. One thing he knew for sure was that after the birth of Amila, Padmé had become a completely different person. He tried to reach out to her, to comfort her, for he could sense her inner anguish through the Force. He wondered if she even knew, herself, how troubled she was. Most of the time, it seemed she was in denial, or at least extremely defensive. He had tried. He really had. She rejected him at every turn, and every hostile utterance sliced through him like a hot vibroblade. It was easier not to care. It was easier to close himself off to his wife. He didn't know what else to do. They slept side by side every night, yet he could not even remember the last time they had been intimate. He had become the sole initiator, and it was obvious her heart was not in it. When every kiss was met with an annoyed sigh, he withdrew from her emotionally. Part of him felt guilty for having done it. The other part realized she had forced his hand.

If he could be completely honest with himself, he would realize that his heart was broken - was being broken over and over again. That was not something he had ever thought Padmé could be capable of doing to him, and so he would not even consider the possibility.

It was in this turbulent state of mind that Ayana found him.

"I didn't expect to find you here. I was under the impression this room was some sort of torture chamber to you," she said in greeting, a wry smile pulling at her lips.

"It is." He wanted to say more but found himself unable to produce any sensible speech.

She came to a stop in front of him. "Hey. Is something wrong?" He didn't respond immediately and did not even lift his head to acknowledge her, which she apparently took as an affirmative answer. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He pondered the inquiry for a moment. "It's just..." he began, but his voice trailed away. This wasn't exactly something he wanted to discuss with Ayana. He had been unusually reticent about speaking to her when it came to his relationship with Padmé. There was no longer any reason to hide; their marriage had become public knowledge years ago. Something about Ayana left him keeping his thoughts to himself. He couldn't quite understand the reasoning behind this, and he didn't spend much time speculating about it. It may simply have been a defense mechanism; perhaps he was protecting Padmé from Ayana's trademark cynical sarcasm. Alternatively, he could have been protecting his... _bond_ with Ayana.

He had a different sort of bond with Ayana than he did with Padmé - not better, not worse, just _different_. When it came to Padmé, he could touch her through the Force, sense her presence, search out her emotions. Ayana, on the other hand... she could touch back. Rather than having a comparably unsatisfying one-way connection, they shared a deeper, mutual connection in the Force. Before he even thought to reach out to her, he could feel her concurrently strong and gentle Force nudge. She was vibrant, unmistakable. She was simultaneously an enigma and a cherished friend he had known all his life. She drew him in so easily, but she could just as easily build a mental wall and shut him out whenever she so chose. It was both frustrating and thrilling in its newness. This was not a development of which he was consciously aware. Of course, he spent precious little time analyzing his thoughts and feelings these days. Introspection had become dangerous territory, though he failed to realize a lack thereof could be equally dangerous.

If he was a cautious man, he would have reflected on these facts, shown discernment, and proceeded cautiously. However, no one had ever accused Anakin of being cautious. He frequently acted without thinking too much. This was a habit he was struggling to break, but old habits die hard.

"It's nothing," he assured Ayana, shaking his head. "I'm just thinking too much."

She cast a skeptical glance in his direction, obviously not fooled in the least by his denial. He saw that familiar knowing look cross her features and disappear just as rapidly. "Okay," she allowed. "What are you doing now? I think after that last conference, everyone is done for the day."

Anakin nodded in agreement. "I do believe you are right about that. They seemed all too eager to adjourn." He checked his chrono. "It's getting late, anyway. Dinner will be served in a few hours."

"Are you staying for dinner?" she asked, clasping her hands behind her back and casually swiveling back and forth. To Anakin, she resembled a baby Loth-cat, tail wagging and eagerly anticipating a treat. He chuckled at the analogy. "What?" she questioned with a slight smile, but he shook his head again, waving his hand at her.

"It's nothing," he echoed himself. "I'm not certain if I will be staying for dinner. If we're finished early today, I would like to spend time with the children."

She nodded understandingly. "Okay, family guy. That sounds like a good plan. Meanwhile..." She hitched her thumb over her shoulder. "I've been having trouble with that training remote you gave me. I was wondering if you had time to take a look at it. That's actually why I came to find you."

Anakin nodded distractedly. "Yes, that's fine. I have a few moments."

* * *

"It's here somewhere..."

Anakin stood awkwardly just inside Ayana's bedroom. He silently watched her searching her closet for the droid in question, uncertain if he should stand or take a seat.

"Aha! Here it is! Under clothes... of course..." She blushed sheepishly as she returned, holding the training remote out for him to take.

He accepted it from her and turned it over a few times. It still seemed to be in good condition on the exterior. Pressing a few buttons, he quickly realized the problem. "The programming has been reset," he informed her. "Happens frequently with these models. It's a bug they haven't quite worked out." After he pressed a few more buttons, the droid rewarded him with a sequence of satisfied beeps. He returned the training remote to its newest owner. "Should be fine for a while. If it happens again, let me know."

Ayana tucked the training remote under her arm and looked up at him with an appreciative smirk. "Thanks a bunch, droidmaster. I knew you could fix it."

He allowed her a half smile in response. "It was nothing. Really."

For a moment, she stood there, staring up at him with an unreadable expression. He stood stock-still, unsure of how to respond and uncertain of what she expected from him. She moved first, setting the droid down on a nearby table. When she turned back to him, there was a strange intensity in her eyes. She watched him quietly for some time. He tentatively reached out in the Force and was blasted by what could only be described as a _flood_ of emotions - _very_ unexpected emotions.

"Ayana..." he began warily.

"Shh," she hushed him, stepping closer and pressing a finger to his lips. "Don't. Please." Her eyes searched his as if seeking something from him, though he suspected he could not give her what she wanted. He didn't have it in him to crush her feelings so he didn't push her away. It did not once cross his mind how wrong - how dangerous - this situation really was. Ayana interpreted his reluctance to leave as a sort of encouragement. He should have known - should have expected - should have _sensed_ \- what she would do next, but perhaps he was willfully ignorant.

She took another step closer, reached up, and drew his face closer until their lips met and... all rational and intelligent thought left his brain. Ayana opened herself up to him through the Force, and suddenly he could feel everything. Her admiration, her appreciation, her attraction, her lust, her raw desire - he felt _everything_. It was unlike anything he had ever felt. It had been a long time since he had even felt _anything_ from Padmé. She had been closed off to him for a long time. But this... this was overwhelming and comforting and welcoming and enticing.

"What... what are you doing?" he fumbled breathlessly when their lips parted.

Her facial expression was now quite serious. She regarded him quietly, studying his face. "Anakin... I don't know how it happened, but... I'm falling for you. And I don't want to, and I know you have... obligations." He furrowed his brow, and she paused briefly. "But I _know_ you feel something. I can sense it through the Force, and I can see it in your eyes. Just..." She looked down at his gloved hand, carefully taking it in one hand and pulling at the leather fingers with the other. She dropped the glove to the floor and gently ran her fingers down his metal prosthesis. When her eyes returned to him, they blazed with an intense hunger like he had not seen in far too long. "Just. Let. Go," she whispered.

He could not move, finding himself frozen to the spot. Again, he did not run, and he did not push her away. And so... she advanced.

When her fingers tangled themselves in his hair, he forgot why it was that he was supposed to leave, and he did just as she told him to do. He let go.

* * *

Anakin stood at the window, staring out at the city. Now that he was once more fully robed, reality began to catch up with him. She came up behind him, wearing only a dressing gown, and rested her chin on his shoulder. Her arms snaked their way around his waist. An ominous chill ran down his spine at her touch. Almost reflexively, he shook her off.

"What's wrong, Ani?" she asked, plainly taken aback by his response.

"Don't call me that," he replied gruffly.

"I'm sorry... I just thought that..."

"We shouldn't have done this," he intoned. His voice came out rougher than he intended.

"Attachment isn't forbidden anymore, Anakin."

He whirled on her, his eyes dark and foreboding. "That is not what I meant, and you know it."

The strong, confident Jedi apprentice he thought he knew no longer stood before him. In her place was a wide-eyed, apprehensive young woman uneasily wearing her heart on her sleeve. He had stayed because he hadn't meant to crush her, but he feared the damage he inflicted now would not hardly compare.

"Anakin..." He felt her Force presence, hesitant at first, then growing stronger by the second. He cut her off, shut her out. She gasped in shock and fell back a few steps. "I don't understand."

"I think you _do_ ," he accused bitterly, casting his eyes to the floor as if fearful of looking into her eyes any longer.

"Look..." Even without the Force, he could sense her struggling, fumbling for words. "I know you don't... you don't talk about _her_ that much... but I know things... aren't right. I know you don't feel about her the way you used to-"

"You don't know _anything_ ," he growled in warning.

"I know it's _different_ ," she amended, refusing to be thwarted. "I can see that. I just want to help-"

He let out a humorless laugh at what either had to be naivety or absolute cunning. "Help? You wanted to _help_?" he scoffed, lifting his head to glare at her. "Is that what you call _this_?" He swept his arm around the room. "Drawing me here for _this_?"

She shook her head, holding a hand up and waving it back and forth in defense. "That's not what I intended-"

"Are you _sure_? You seem to be such a careful, calculating person," he asserted coldly.

Her eyes watered as she bit her lower lip. "That's not fair." He said nothing, staring her down wordlessly for a moment before looking away. "You know... you _have_ to know how I feel about you." Still, he stood in stony silence, refusing to respond. She was hardly the sort to give in to this treatment. "I won't lie, I _have_ wanted this for some time. I was afraid you didn't feel the same. But when you came here today..." She came forward, reaching up to touch his face, but he swatted her hand away. She swallowed hard and tried again. "Anakin, I know you feel something. And you deserve to be happy. I can make you happy. I can, I promise. If you just give me a chance..."

The scowl he gave her in return was brutally, mercilessly unfeeling. He stepped past her and rigidly headed for the door. Stopping short of the exit, he turned back to Ayana. "I made a promise to her - a promise which I have broken. I did not make this promise to you. I have not chosen to devote the rest of my life to you. I love _her_."

Her expression rapidly changed in obvious defense. She covered her hurt with hostility. "Then why are you _here_?" she demanded pointedly, looking him up and down with teary, furious eyes.

He turned from her and left without a response.

* * *

 **I had trouble writing this chapter... I didn't wanna get too OOC, but I feel like this story needs to be done justice. Believable but not excessive. I hope I struck some sort of balance. And for those of you disappointed in your poster boy... Well, I'm sorry (sort of). Even the best of us make the worst of mistakes, especially when backed into a corner.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Alllll of the apologies, my friends. I am a full-time college student these days, with a Mon-Thu schedule that leaves me little time to think or breathe, let alone write. And that makes me very sad. Anyway, I made promises, and it's time to deliver. Enjoy. Share your thoughts. So on and so forth...**

* * *

He could sense the oncoming storm well before the chime indicated there was someone at his door. He didn't have to check the security cam to know who stood outside.

"Anakin," he greeted his former Padawan smoothly. "So good of you to visit."

"Master," Anakin replied more carefully than usual, struggling not to betray the war raging within. Obi-Wan decided to allow him to keep up the pretense for a moment longer.

"Do come in," Obi-Wan welcomed him, stepping to the side and sweeping his arm around him in invitation. Anakin gave him a slight nod and stepped through the door. Obi-Wan tapped a button on the control, and it closed behind Anakin with a whoosh.

"Thirsty? Hungry? I was just finishing my dinner preparations," Obi-Wan explained congenially with a small smile. "I have plenty to spare."

The look Anakin pointed in his former Master's direction was simultaneously weary and unforbearing. "I have no appetite," he intoned plainly.

Obi-Wan unconsciously decided he wouldn't make this so simple for his old friend. It had been some time since Anakin had bothered to make contact, and even longer since he had shown up at his door step. Obi-Wan was hardly disgruntled about losing his place in the Jedi Order - in fact, it had turned out to be quite a relief. He didn't like playing General Kenobi, and he didn't particularly relish the responsibilities that inevitably came with being a member of the Council. As an outsider, he had much more time to relax and enjoy life in a way he never realized he could. He could make... _friends_. No, he could not hold these changes against Anakin. At first, he had been offended, hurt, and even angry. Those feelings quickly faded, and not because of his Jedi training. He soon came to realize that the Jedi Order _must_ change if it were to keep balance in the Force. He still was called upon from time to time to offer his "expert" opinion or to serve as a diplomat when necessary. His earnings from such were enough to keep him living comfortably, perhaps not in the highest levels of Coruscant, but someplace respectable with very little crime.

No, his lack of position was not what had him disgruntled. It was the resulting loss of a dear friend.

"That's quite all right," Obi-Wan conceded. "I can put it to the side for later." He made his way to the kitchen to do just so. As he expected would happen, Anakin followed. "I've been trying to eat healthier, you know. No more flaming meatlump bombs at Dax's," he chuckled. "Hard to keep up with sparring practice when you've put on a little extra weight." He spared a sideways glance at Anakin. "Yes, I know what you're thinking, and yes, I _do_ keep up with my sparring practice - quite regularly, in fact. There hasn't been much practical use of my skills as of late, but I still find it's quite imperative to be prepared for any change in circumstances at any given moment."

Obi-Wan busied himself with closing and replacing containers in the cooler unit, avoiding the very pointed stare Anakin had trained on him. He knew his friend was growing tired of this avoidance, but why give Anakin the satisfaction? He had some kind of nerve, waltzing in when trouble was brewing and expecting his former Master to pick up the pieces as he always had done. Obi-Wan was suddenly unsure of whether he actually wanted to know anything about the current problem. This storm in the Force that swirled around Anakin left the air in the room crackling with something like electricity. It was more than Obi-Wan had seen from Anakin in a very long time - never mind the fact that Obi-Wan hadn't even _seen_ Anakin in a very long time.

"Master..." Anakin began cautiously.

"You're right, I'm probably over-thinking and assuming too much about my own importance, but-"

"Master..."

"-I like to think that I still am some use to the galaxy after all this time despite the fact-"

" _Master_..."

"-that I've been flying under the radar, so to speak, though I do quite enjoy my life these days-"

" _ **MASTER.**_ " Anakin abruptly slammed his prosthetic fist on the counter in frustration, and a loud _crack_ echoed through the room. Unperturbed, Obi-Wan gazed down at the countertop.

"I do believe you've left a hole in my counter, Anakin."

Anakin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, struggling to right himself. "I am sorry, Master."

"I wish you wouldn't call me that. It's been a long time since I've been anyone's Master. I am just plain Obi-Wan now."

Anakin's features molded into a hard, impatient glare. "Master, I need to speak with you. It's very important."

"I should think so, considering it's been many months since I last saw you," Obi-Wan replied pointedly, folding his arms in front of his chest.

Genuine remorse clouded Anakin's face for a moment, and he cast his eyes downward. "Yes... I know. I am very sorry for that, M... Obi-Wan."

They stood in silence for a moment, with only the light humming of the cooler unit penetrating the air. Anakin's eyes remained trained on some indistinct spot on the floor, while Obi-Wan's eyes remained trained on his troubled friend. Obi-Wan sighed heavily. "It's water under the bridge, Anakin. Let's have a seat in the main room, shall we?"

Moments later, each with a warm cup of Gatalentan tea, they settled themselves on separate form chairs. Obi-Wan watched with mild amusement at Anakin's expression as the chair molded itself to his shape.

"How did you manage to get these?" Anakin questioned in surprise.

Obi-Wan barely managed to hide his grin. "Diplomatic mission to Olanji. A certain Senator took a liking to me, and to show her great appreciation for my assistance in the conflict, she offered me this gift." Anakin's eyebrows raised in response to this news. "I gladly accepted," Obi-Wan added coolly, betraying nothing.

"Here I thought you were not a great fan of politics, or politicians, for that matter," Anakin demurred, sipping his tea.

Obi-Wan allowed a full-blown grin. "I make exceptions from time to time."

"Hmm," was Anakin's noncommittal response. A brief period of silence ensued, punctuated by a deep sigh from Anakin as he set his cup on the low table before him.

"Obi-Wan..." Master watched student carefully for a long moment, waiting for the student to decide how to proceed. "I've made a horrible mistake," Anakin admitted at last, hanging his head.

Obi-Wan could nearly hear the pounding of his former Padawan's heart as he began to admit the truth not only to his former Master but also to himself. The tension echoed from Anakin's shoulders and swelled and grew to fill the room.

"With Ayana," Anakin whispered.

The older Jedi reclined in his seat, stroking his beard thoughtfully. He realized he had known all along that it had to have come to this. Perhaps his avoidance was not so much a game of revenge but a reluctance to see yet another blinding fault in his beloved Padawan. He said nothing right away, for he couldn't seem to form any words.

"I... I didn't mean to," Anakin stammered, desperate to fill with excuses the silence he perceived to be judgment. "I, I don't know what happened... She lured me to her room-"

"Did she, Anakin?" Obi-Wan challenged him softly.

Anakin inhaled sharply, his indignance obvious. "Of course she did. How was I to know that..." His voice trailed away as he realized how transparent his many excuses truly were. "I didn't... I didn't..." Silent, burning tears of regret began to stream down his face. He looked up at his old friend - his brother - with a tortured, imploring expression. "I knew. I just didn't want to see. Padmé, she..." He swallowed hard. "She's shut me out. I don't know... I don't know what I did. I don't know what's wrong. She's shut everyone out. I can't... Obi-Wan, I have been so lonely, so frustrated, so... and Ayana..."

"Saw an opening?" Obi-Wan supplied.

"No," Anakin denied vehemently with a rough shake of his head. "I don't believe that. I can't believe this was orchestrated. It just... we have so much in common, and..."

"You ignored the warning signs," Obi-Wan surmised, idly twisting the facial hair above his lip.

"Obi-Wan, could you please just _stop_?" Anakin shouted, and Obi-Wan had to recognize that he was pushing his friend too near to the breaking point.

He took a deep breath and drew one hand down the length of his face. "All right. I'm sorry. Tell me what happened."

Anakin's shoulders sagged, and he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "We do spend so much time together - but it's for the good of the Order. I have been busy trying to bring balance to the Force - is that not my destiny? Padmé is no better - she spends all her days at that blasted Senate building. And whenever she _is_ home, she treats the children and I like an annoyance, an inconvenience. We..." He peered up at his old teacher apprehensively. "We haven't been... intimate..."

Obi-Wan sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically. "Anakin, I'm no prude. And anyway, you're married with three children."

"Right, right..." Anakin's eyes quickly returned to the floor. "I just mean that... Things are different than what they were. And I... I don't know how to deal with it. I don't know what to do. And I tried not to bring Ayana into it, but she knew. She could tell. She wanted to help - at least, I... I don't know. I don't know what she wanted. I don't know anything."

Obi-Wan studied Anakin carefully before answering. "You do know that you have made a terrible mistake. It no longer matters why or how it happened. It's too late to change the past." A sigh escaped him as he observed his friend's slumping shoulders and dejected gaze. "What matters is _what you're going to do about it_."

"What can I do?" Anakin cried helplessly. "Padmé will never forgive me."

Obi-Wan shook his head in disagreement. "You don't know that."

"I wouldn't forgive me," Anakin grumbled, playing with a loose string on his glove.

"Then let's be thankful that Padmé is obviously a better person than you, hmm?"

Anakin's eyes snapped to Obi-Wan's face, but when he saw his friend's warm smile, his expression softened. "Well, you _are_ right about that," he agreed quietly.

"Of course I'm right. I usually am," he teased, earning a shake of the head from Anakin.

"Obi-Wan..." Anakin inhaled deeply, rubbing his face with both hands. "I can't face her."

"You can. You have to. She deserves to know."

"How could I tell her? What could I say? She will hate me."

"Rightfully so. But she will still love you, I am sure of it." Obi-Wan reached out to Anakin in the Force, with just a soft, comforting touch to calm and soothe him. Anxiety was of no use at this moment. He needed serenity now to help him navigate these choppy waters.

Anakin leaned back, eyes closed, and focused on controlling his breathing for several seconds. "I am glad you are so sure, Master." Obi-Wan decided not to correct him this time. "I wish I could be so certain," Anakin sighed sullenly.

"Anakin..." Obi-Wan waited until he had Anakin's full attention, until their eyes locked. "She needs you. Just as you need her. Perhaps you have both lost your way, somehow, but that happens sometimes. All you must do is retrace your steps. Remember what drew you to each other in the first place." He smiled wryly, remembering. "You nearly tore apart a galaxy to stay together. Surely that is worth something."

Anakin nodded slowly, deep in thought. "Yes, Master. You're right."

"Yes, we've established that," Obi-Wan joked gently. "Just be honest with her. And be patient. What you have to tell her... It _will_ kill her. You know that. Just allow her to process this, no matter what it takes, no matter how long it takes. You owe her that."

Anakin nodded again. "Yes, Master," he echoed himself. "I will try."

Obi-Wan leaned forward, pulling at Anakin's attention with the Force this time. "Anakin... I know we have grown apart, but you are still my brother. I still love you dearly. I would do anything for you." He swallowed hard and pushed forward. "I need you to know that you can come to me, always. Nothing you confess could make me love you less. I consider you to be my best friend, despite..." He sighed. "Despite the recent distance."

A lone tear escaped Anakin's eye. "I _am_ sorry, Obi-Wan. I couldn't face you. I felt that I let you down."

A genuine smile spread across Obi-Wan's face. "Oh, Anakin. No. I am so proud of you and the man - the Jedi - you are becoming. Things could have ended so tragically. You saved the galaxy, and you are working hard to bring balance to the Force." He paused purposefully before going on. "Qui-Gon would have been so proud, as well. You are becoming what he knew you must become."

Anakin huffed doubtfully. "Even with all of _this_?" he challenged bitterly.

Obi-Wan shrugged and rubbed his hands together. "How else do you learn, Anakin?" He leaned back in his chair, a glimmer in his eye. "No. Anakin, you will go on to do great things. I know it. The galaxy is not done with you yet. And neither is Padmé."

"Yes," Anakin said, staring down at his hands, "we will see."

* * *

 **How's that for your daily dose of OBK? I hope it was worth the wait. (Catch the song lyric? Couldn't help it. I love that song, seemed fitting for this situation.) Obviously, we aren't done yet. I'll try to be more faithful in my updates. R &R, thnx!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Oh hi. I promised not to wait _too_ long, and here I am again. Oh, and the song was "I'll Stand By You" by The Pretenders. ;)**

* * *

She came home late again. He was waiting in the sitting area, in the dark, when she arrived. He startled her, for she gasped and lay a hand across her chest.

"Anakin... I didn't see you there."

"Padmé..." His mouth felt like the desert wastelands of Tattooine. He swallowed. "Padmé," he tried again. "I need to speak with you."

She sighed wearily. "Anakin. It's been a long day. I would like to get some rest. We can talk tomorrow." She turned, considering the discussion concluded, and headed for their bedroom.

"It can't wait," he insisted, a bit too harshly, but it had the intended effect. She stopped in her tracks, looking back at him over her shoulder.

"All right." She retraced her steps and came to stand next to the sofa on which he was seated. She declined to join him on the sofa, which he assumed to be her way of attempting to keep the conversation short. He feared it would not conclude as quickly as she hoped. Padmé stared down at him expectantly, almost impatiently, which did nothing to calm his already frazzled nerves.

"I... I've made a mistake." He glanced up at his wife, but her facial expression betrayed nothing. Her presence in the Force was cloudy, indecipherable. He pushed forward. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Her brow furrowed, and he felt her sudden tension at his words. "What are you talking about?"

"I..." He struggled with the words, turning away from her and leaning forward. Resting his elbows on his knees, he took a deep, shaky breath. He had been agonizing over this since leaving Obi-Wan's apartment. What could he say? How should he say it? Should he soften the blow? Could he even soften this at all? How do you explain to your childhood love that you have betrayed her in the worst way possible? "I had sex with Ayana," he confessed, his words coming out in a rush. The release of this secret he had only been holding in for several hours brought a strange sort of painful relief.

Padmé froze, all emotion suddenly erased from her features. Like a blow, he felt her completely shut him out through the Force. He didn't have the time to consider how she could have done so, or whether she even realized she had done it. "Wh...what?"

"I'm sorry, I... I am truly sorry," he fumbled as he uselessly sought to explain, to apologize, to fix this wound that had hardly begun to open. "I don't know how or why it happened, I just-"

"When?" she cut him off, her usually mild voice suddenly powerful.

"T...Today," he admitted, his shoulders slumping.

An eerie silence settled on the room. Only the soft sounds of their breathing could be heard. He tried to reach out to her with the Force, attempting to offer some sort of comfort, or... he wasn't quite sure what. She remained closed off to him, still and emotionless.

"Was this the first time?" she demanded, breaking the silence at last.

"Yes." He wanted to look at her, but he found he couldn't. He was too afraid. He was a coward.

"Who knows about this?"

"Just... just Obi-Wan. I... I went to see him after... I..." He faltered. There was no way he could justify, explain, or excuse his actions. Obi-Wan was right. He just needed to be honest and allow her to process this. He suddenly realized how terrified he was of losing her more than he already had.

She remained as still as a statue. He finally dared to peer up at her. She wasn't even looking at him. She was staring into the distance, her eyes cold and but her face otherwise expressionless. Something inside Anakin broke at her lack of reaction. He had expected tears, he had expected a screaming match, he had even expected her to hit him. He was not at all prepared for this coldness.

"Padmé," he whispered.

She still would not look at him. "Do you love her?"

"Padmé, I-"

"Do. You. Love. Her?" she repeated, her words punctuated and hard.

"No," he said truthfully. He wanted a chance to show her that he meant it, but she had shut him out and refused to budge even the slightest. He was hopelessly lost and completely at her mercy. Thus far, she had shown none.

"Why, then?" she asked in a frustratingly impassive tone.

"I... I don't know," he told her. He felt himself shrinking with every second that passed. "I... I could feel her through the Force," was his weak admission.

He could have sworn he saw her flinch, but if she did, she quickly righted herself. He waited for what seemed like forever, regretting his words and wishing he could properly explain, but finding himself mute. She did not utter a single word. She stood like a stone, completely impenetrable to him. Suddenly, she turned from him and stormed away from him. He heard their bedroom door open and close a moment later, followed by the unmistakable sound of the locking mechanism ensuring that he could not join her for the night.

In that moment, he knew that it was over. He hung his head and allowed the bitter tears to flow.

* * *

Padmé collapsed against the door, struggling for breath. It was as if the sitting room had been suddenly rendered devoid of air, and having escaped its deathly grasp, she could breathe at last. Now that she was here, though, there was hardly enough oxygen in the air to fill her lungs. So many emotions attacked her all at once. She felt blindsided. She felt overwhelming guilt. She felt pain like she had never experienced before. Her eyes aimlessly searched the ceiling as she clutched at her chest, nails digging into her bare skin as if she would will the air through her flesh into her lungs to give her breath. Tears began to flow in cascades down her face. She sank to the floor and buried her face in her dress, where her sobs were graciously muffled.

"Anakin... Anakin," she wept into the soft folds of her skirt. "What have you done?"

* * *

 **The End.**

 **Jk, we not done. Hold onto your hats; it's about to get bumpy.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Longest update yet. Have I mentioned how I love your reviews? I don't believe I have. I'm terrible about remembering things. If I haven't responded to you personally, I apologize. I forgot who I answered and who I didn't. I am intrigued by your analysis, your criticism, your comments, and your appreciation. It makes me do more of the writing thing. And "angie" - I can't reply to your review directly, but I appreciated your insightful response. You hit the nail square on the head.**

* * *

He woke with the sunlight in his eyes. He shifted on the sofa, his head throbbing and his back aching. It had hardly been a comfortable place to sleep. He had tossed and turned restlessly the whole night through. It felt completely wrong to be in the safety of his own home yet separated from his wife. There was a time, long ago, when they were in constant physical contact in bed, even while sleeping - his arm around her waist, their backs pressed against one another's, their legs intertwined. For some time, now, they slept so close yet so far apart. Despite the lack of physical contact, sleeping in her presence brought better rest than sleeping alone on the sofa. He wondered if they could ever get back to that point.

Elay quietly exited Amila's room. She took note of Anakin's position and disheveled hair but said nothing as she passed him on her way to the kitchen. A Coruscanti nanny of nobles knew better than to question or to bring to attention marital squabbles and discord. He sighed heavily and sat up, running his fingers through his curls.

He heard their bedroom door slide open and cringed in fear. He wondered if she would be any less cold this morning. He didn't have to wonder for long because she quietly but purposefully strode into the room. Anakin took in the appearance of his beautiful wife who had suddenly aged several years overnight. There were dark circles under her eyes, and though she had made a weak attempt at covering herself with cosmetics, she looked nothing like the Padmé he knew and - yes, _still_ \- loved. Her efforts in styling her hair had obviously been half-hearted, and even the dress she had chosen was quite plain.

"Padmé..." he croaked, his voice mired with fatigue.

She stopped and turned her head to look down at him. That same coldness remained in her eyes. He suddenly wished she would yell at him, scream at him, inflict the punishment he knew he deserved. He couldn't bear this lack of emotion. Whatever disconnect from his wife he had felt before was now magnified significantly. He did not want to hurt her, did not want to see her hurting, but this felt all too severe and permanent.

When she spoke, he was transported back to his childhood, strongly reminded of that carefully controlled and intimidating form of speech she employed as Queen of Naboo. "I will be staying in my quarters at the Senate Building. I will not be returning for quite some time."

He pulled himself to his feet, ignoring the protests of his tired, sore muscles. "Padmé, listen to me-"

"I am confident that Elay will see to the children and you..." The gaze she leveled on him betrayed no emotion and yet conveyed a strong sense of distaste and contempt. "You may do with yourself whatever you see fit."

"Please, let me explain-" He moved towards her, and as he got closer, she flinched slightly and took a step back.

"There is nothing to explain. You said enough last night."

"Padmé, I am sorry. I wish I could... I just..." He fumbled for words, feeling the immense pressure of knowing that soon she would be gone, and he might lose all chances of reconciliation.

"I am not interested in having this conversation," she said dismissively, turning to move away from him.

Reflexively, he reached out, pulling her back towards him with a hand on her waist. "My love-"

Her hands circled around his wrists in an instant, and he was surprised by the strength of her grasp. Her eyes blazed with a fire of emotions he had never seen before, but the tone of her voice was still controlled and hard. "Don't you dare call me that," she seethed. "Don't..." He thought she might say more, but she dropped his wrists abruptly and turned to leave the apartment. He stood staring after her long after she exited the room, his thoughts jumbled and crushing all at once.

Only when Elay politely and quietly cleared her throat was he broken from his reverie. He numbly turned his head to see the nanny standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

"Shall I get the children up, Master Skywalker, or shall I allow them to sleep a bit longer?"

 _The children_. They were already feeling the absence of their mother with her long days in her office. How would they be affected now? He could hardly stand to think of it. "Yes," he mumbled numbly. "Yes, let them sleep." He stumbled away to his bedroom to ready himself for the day.

* * *

Anakin successfully avoided Ayana for several days, excusing himself from certain meetings or purposefully "forgetting" to send her an invite to others. He knew the avoidance could only last so long - and only as long as she allowed it. He hadn't seen Padmé in just as much time, and each time their children asked for their mother, he broke a little more inside. He had done this. He was tearing apart their family. Now he had no idea what he could - or should - do. There was certainly no way he could continue working with Ayana, but for either of them to abandon the new Jedi Order would be out of the question. At the same time, though the Jedi were certainly changing to reflect the times, he had a feeling this sort of _indiscretion_ would not be overlooked if it became public knowledge. Sure, the nobles and elite of Coruscant were known to dabble in less than virtuous affairs, and honestly, the public would probably be intrigued and entertained by the scandal, but he didn't think the fragile Order could handle such a galactic embarrassment. All their hard work thus far could be dashed to pieces.

She found him in one of the lesser used meditation chambers. He had purposefully escaped there to avoid company, and she had apparently ascertained his intentions. She didn't immediately speak but took her place on a meditation pedestal, folding her legs beneath her. He knew ignoring her wouldn't make her go away, but he tried it, anyway.

"I know you've been avoiding me," she quietly broke the silence at last.

"I had no choice," was his simple reply. He kept his eyes firmly closed and did not change position.

"Anakin... I'm sorry. I truly am," she insisted. Her apology sounded sincere enough, but he still chose not to respond. "If I had known..." She cleared her throat nervously. "If I had known how you felt, I wouldn't...I wouldn't have..."

"Tried to seduce me?" His words came out flat, not quite an accusation.

"That's not..." She sighed heavily. "Okay, yes, that's how it seemed. I know that. But that wasn't my aim. I just..." He sat unmoving in the silence as she continued to struggle for the right words to say. "I've fallen for you. I didn't mean to... I mean, sure in Hutt Space, things are different. The lines are a lot more blurred than they are here. That's... that's not an excuse. I mean, I know things are different here - I just..."

She paused, and though he refused to open his eyes, he could feel her focused stare. "Anakin, I truly do love you. More than I have ever loved anyone else. More than I ever thought I could. Growing up on Nar Shaddaa... abandoned by my parents... I learned I couldn't trust people. I never let people get too close. But you... you have been so kind to me since I arrived. You've helped train me, you've taught me so much... I don't think I could help falling for you."

She sniffed, and he suddenly realized she was crying. "I feel so stupid now... I... I should have known. I assumed too much. I _hoped_ too much. I knew you and your wife were having problems, even if you never really said so. I could feel it, I could sense it. I thought... I don't know what I thought. I was too bold, too brazen, too foolish. And for what I have done to you, I am sorry."

He opened his eyes at last and took in the sight of the small, helpless girl before him. The weight of his role in this disaster finally weighed upon him fully. He had failed to set clear boundaries. He had failed to recognize the real danger in getting too close to someone he knew was so vulnerable, despite her insistent pretense of strength and self-assuredness. He had, in fact, welcomed the attention he had not received in far too long. He had selfishly and thoughtlessly destroyed not one but _two_ women who had trusted him implicitly. Yet he could not find the words to say so. "You shouldn't be here," was all he found he could say.

She huffed in annoyance. "Anakin, I'm not going to _pounce_ on you. That's not why I came here."

Breathing deep, he stared at her intently. "Then why did you come here?"

Her mouth twisted into a sad, wistful smile. She shrugged and wiped away a stray tear. "I came here to apologize." He broke eye contact, casting his eyes downwards to the floor. A brief period of silence ensued. She was again the first to break it. "I'm leaving. Shaak Ti is being sent to Dantooine to search the old Jedi Enclave. It is thought there may be useful information hidden in the ruins. And there's rumors of other Jedi ruins on the planet." Another pause, punctuated by Ayana's deep breath. "I volunteered to accompany her. It is likely I will be gone for quite some time."

Anakin nodded slowly at this revelation, a sense of relief flooding his body. Perhaps reconciliation would be possible once Padmé realized Ayana was truly out of the way.

"I hope... I hope this helps you. I'm not sure if you... well... have you told... her?"

"Yes," he muttered, still avoiding her eyes. "I haven't heard from her since."

"Oh, Anakin..." She sighed heavily. "I wish..." She didn't finish her thought. Instead, she got to her feet, but she didn't immediately leave. "I'll be leaving in the morning. I really am very sorry. I hope you can fix things with her." She stayed for a moment, as if waiting for a response, but when he had none, she turned to go.

"Ayana." His voice stopped her just as she reached the door. " _I'm_ sorry. I'm so sorry... for everything." She froze but did not turn back towards him. He knew he couldn't allow her to leave shouldering _all_ of the blame. "I cared too much," he admitted. "I realize now how shameful my actions were. I led you on. And for that... I am sorry, as well."

He thought he heard her stifle a sob, but he couldn't be sure. She slipped out of the room without another word and without looking back. Anakin took a deep breath and stared down at his hands. This was something no amount of meditation could heal.

* * *

"Master Skywalker, she's asked that she not be disturbed."

"I don't care, Typho, let me through."

Captain Typho stubbornly stood in the Jedi's way, completely immune to the determined and slightly menacing look in Anakin's eyes. "I can't do that."

"She's my _wife_ ," Anakin replied hotly.

"Yes, and she's _specifically_ requested that you not be allowed access to her office under any circumstances." It was glaringly obvious where Captain Typho's loyalties lay, and even though he had previously been an ally of Anakin's, when push came to shove, he answered to the Senator only.

"Don't make me move you," Anakin growled, his eyes darkening.

"Do as you wish, sir, but I'll not be moved willingly."

The man was bold. Anakin, under any other circumstances, would have appreciated having such a strong man defending and protecting his wife - a man who would go toe to toe with a Jedi to enforce her requests. Under these circumstances, however, he found the man to be impossible and infuriating.

"Fine, have it your way." With a simple nudge in the Force, the man before him slumped to the floor. Anakin stepped over him and punched in the passcode perhaps too aggressively. The door opened with a satisfying whoosh. She should have had the presence of mind to change the passcode if she really wished to keep him out.

He found her at her desk, head in her hands. She looked up at him, startled at first, and then angry. "What have you done with Captain Typho?" she demanded sharply.

Anakin cast a glance over his shoulder at the crumpled figure on the ground. "He'll be fine. He's taking a short nap."

Her eyes narrowed. "How dare you." Her fists met her desk with a hard thump as she stood.

"How else was I going to get through to my _wife_?" he asked dryly, closing the door behind him.

"Oh, I'm your wife, now?" she taunted, circling her desk and charging across the room towards him. "I thought you had forgotten."

"I thought _you_ had forgotten," he replied a bit more bitterly than intended.

" _I'm_ not the one with a problem keeping it in my pants," she spat heatedly. "A little fan girl falls into your lap, and you just can't resist, can you?"

The reasonable side of Anakin realized he deserved this. The less reasonable side, the heartbroken, aching, and defensive side that terribly missed what they used to have, was impatient, deprived of his wife's affections, and far less understanding. "Right, and your head of security is in love with you," he rejoined.

She laughed mirthlessly. "At least he's _loyal_."

All the pointed jabs, all the insults, all the hateful words she had thrown at him in the past several months paled in comparison to this vibroblade she dug deep into his chest. For a moment, he questioned everything. Could she actually have fallen for this man? For just a split second, he tasted only a small sample of the heartache he had served her so recently. "Padmé..."

"Why are you even _here_?" she cut him off coldly. "If I wanted to see you, I would have-"

"What? Come home, finally? Visited your children? Or even at least attempted to contact your children?" His pointed words stopped her in her tracks and silenced her, at least momentarily. "Are you punishing _them_ too?" he asked a bit more gently.

She stared up at him with an unreadable expression, breathing heavily. "That's not..."

"Padmé, please," he begged, "just come home." She looked as if she might give in for just a moment, so he couldn't stop himself from reaching out to her. He lay his mechanical on her waist and caressed her neck with his flesh hand. As soon as skin touched skin, she jerked away.

"Don't touch me!" she shrieked.

"Padmé-"

"Don't put your hands on me. Don't touch me. Not when your hands have been..." She choked on the words and turned away from him. "Not when your hands have been on _her_."

"Padmé-"

"You should go. You should leave. _Now_."

"Please, I just-"

"I can't _look_ at you," she cut him off, her voice cracking. "Knowing what you did... I can't."

He hated this. He despised himself for doing this to her - to them. He could not bear this distance between them, which seemed to stretch the length of the entire galaxy. He didn't know what he should do. He just wanted to _fix_ this.

"Can we ever... will you... are you ever going to come home?" It sounded like a weak plea. He was embarrassed at his lack of composure, especially considering her indifference.

"I don't know." Her voice was barely a whisper thrown over her slumped shoulders.

The ensuing silence was deafening and, to him, felt like the end of everything. He didn't care who was to blame any longer. He didn't care where it started or who started it. Every bone in his body aches for her to come back to him. He just wanted to hold her once again.

"She's gone," he told her. "She left this morning for Dantooine. She won't be back for a long while."

Padmé answered him with silence. She didn't even budge.

"I don't know if that makes a difference," he went on lamely. "I just... I wanted you to know."

Nothing. She gave him no acknowledgment whatsoever.

"Padmé... I love you. I made a horrible mistake. I don't love her - I never did. I never felt for her the way I feel for you." He longed to reach out to her again, to prove to her that his words were true. He didn't even know if these were the right words to say. He didn't know if it would make a difference. He just knew he had to try. "I'm sorry for what I've done. I don't know what to do. You pushed me away, and I-"

She whirled on him then, her eyes fiery and pained. "You're saying this is all my fault?"

"No, I-"

"I pushed you to do this, did I?" she pressed, her voice raising in pitch.

"That's not what I meant-"

"Of course that's what you meant! That's what you've been thinking all along!" she cried, throwing her hands in the air. He watched her sadly, drawing a scoff from her lips. "Don't look at me like that. Don't pity me," she warned him, shaking her head. "I know what you've been thinking. I know what everyone thinks. I'm a horrible mother, I'm a terrible wife, I'm failing as a Senator-"

"Padmé, my love, _no one_ thinks that."

"They do! I can see it in their eyes." Her expression darkened further with each word. "I can see it in _your_ eyes."

He didn't know what to say. She had certainly done her best to keep him out and push him as far away as possible, but that hardly meant she was responsible for his poor decisions. He didn't think there was any way he could explain this that she might believe. Immediately, she took his silence as confirmation.

"This is the last time I'm asking, Anakin. Just go." She didn't wait for him to comply this time. She escaped into an adjoining room and shut the door behind her, decisively ending the conversation.

Anakin heard the door slide open behind him and turned to see a very disgruntled and slightly groggy Captain Typho behind him. "I know you're in love with my wife," he intoned with carefully moderated anger. He turned on his heel and moved to exit the room. "Don't assume that this is your opportunity. It's not."

Captain Typho grumbled in response. "Apology accepted."

* * *

 **Hmm, longest update thus far. We ain't out of the woods yet. Oh and I've purposefully refrained from any kind of physical description of Ayana. I figure I'll leave her up to your minds and interpretations. Hey, she could even be a Twi'lek for all we know!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi all! As far as the reviews to which I can't reply in message:**

 **Guest: I fully understand your point. My intention was never to make Ayana a villain, just an imperfect person. She's not going to be attempting anything again, if that's any consolation. She just happened to be a casualty of this silent war between Padmé and Anakin, a war they don't even know they're fighting. And yes, I _do_ feel she is a casualty - Anakin did not set definite boundaries and allowed himself to get too close. She got the wrong impression, acted on it, and got her heart broken. I think she's learned her lesson, just like Anakin. Padmé on the other hand... Well, she will eventually have to come to terms with her involvement in this disaster. I don't usually like to lay out a story like this, but I figured I should let everyone know where I'm coming from writing this before they get too mad. I told another reviewer that I don't think anyone in this story is a bad guy. I feel it's unfair to permanently label a person for foolish mistakes. Turning those mistakes into a regular habit... that's another story.**

 **Angie: Oh, she definitely will not end up pregnant. Yes, it's possible to get pregnant after ONE TIME, but this story isn't headed in that direction. Thank you for your insightful reviews! I do enjoy them. Yes, Padmé definitely has postpartum depression, but I think that in the SW universe, it's something that probably isn't widely discussed, and, at least in this story, neither of them has experience with depression at all. Anakin, admittedly, is being pretty selfish, but that _can_ happen after you've been scorned for so long.**

 **Okay, sorry for my forever long author's note, but I felt I had to directly address a few things. Hope you enjoy this update!**

* * *

Padmé sat on the couch in the lounge adjoining her office, breathlessly waiting for Anakin to leave. Her chest was tight, her breathing labored. Of course she had missed her children, her home, and yes even her husband. But she simply could not go back. It hurt too much. It literally hurt her physically. In the days since she had left her home, she woke up daily with bodily aches that could not be soothed with heat treatments and simple pain medications. She was exhausted and completely spent. There seemed to be no relief for the physical and emotional hurt she had been suffering for, she had to admit, quite some time. Anakin's infidelity only served to greatly amplify the pain. This was not something she could either explain or admit to anyone. She was ashamed of herself, she was ashamed of how she had been treated her family, and she was ashamed of the fact that Anakin had gone elsewhere seeking what she could not seem to give.

The durasteel exterior she had unconsciously become so adept at displaying to her husband abandoned her. Tears began to stream unbidden down her cheeks for probably the tenth time that day. She had proven to be absolutely useless in the Senate as of late because of these sudden and unwelcome bouts of tearfulness. Despite her constant close proximity, she missed many meetings and often had to send Jar Jar in her place to Senate sessions. The health bill that had been so close to her heart had not been passed, adding to her misery. She was embarrassed by the disaster that had become her life, and she was embarrassed by her inability to handle it the way she had formerly handled all of life's struggles. Even when she thought Anakin to be dead at the hands of Palpatine, she had maintained her composure in public. Finally learning that Anakin had in fact defeated the corrupt politician had brought indescribable relief to her heart. Unfortunately, she feared that any such relief in this situation would not be forthcoming.

She felt that her heart must be made of glass, yet it somehow managed to break and shatter multiple times daily, and she knew not how to pick up the pieces.

* * *

When he arrived at the apartment, he headed directly to the twins' bedroom, knowing he would find Elay there with the children. He stood unnoticed in the doorway for a moment, watching his little blonde-haired boy and brunette girl excitedly playing together. He reveled in their squeals and laughter and smirked considering to himself how quickly they alternated between best friends and worst enemies. Then suddenly, simultaneously, they noticed him, their little eyes widening in his direction. All at once, they charged towards him, and he knelt down to catch them in his arms.

"Luke. Leia," he greeted them as they snuggled into his chest. "Have you behaved for Elay today?"

"Yes, Daddy," Luke mumbled into his tunic.

"No!" Leia contradicted, jerking her head back suddenly. "Lukie took my doll, and he wouldn't give it back!"

"That's because you hit me with it!" Luke countered, wiggling out of his father's grasp to glare at his sister.

"Hey, now, that's enough," Anakin said sternly, struggling to hide a smile. "Both of you know better."

At their father's chastisement, they hung their heads and displayed expressions of appropriate contrition.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Luke apologized.

"I'm sorry for hitting you, Lukie," Leia said in turn.

"That's better," Anakin praised them. "You have to take care of each other, not hurt each other. Do you understand?" They nodded in agreement and nestled back into his arms. Sadness overtook him as the weight of his own counsel settled on his shoulders. He and Padmé had not been taking care of one another. Their actions had only been hurtful. Now their actions were hurting their children as well. He could hardly stand the guilt that roiled in his heart, crushing him as surely as a bantha sitting on his chest would.

He was torn from his reflections by the sight of a chunky little baby with blonde curls crawling towards him. A huge, toothless grin was spread across her face - a face that strongly resembled her mother's. His heart ached to see it. "Amila," he said warmly, welcoming his daughter. She came to a stop in front of him, falling back on her bottom and raising her arms up towards him in a wordless request. Luke and Leia stepped back to make way for their little sister, and Anakin picked her up to rest her on his bent knee. She immediately snuggled into him, laying her head on his shoulder. Anakin was overwhelmed with love for these three small, innocent beings who were completely reliant on him and their mother.

"When is Mommy coming home, Daddy?" Leia questioned, a sad smile clouding her features.

"Yes, I miss Mommy," Luke added with a slight nod.

Anakin reflexively cast his eyes up at Elay, whose expression remained professionally neutral, though she only returned his gaze for a moment before looking down at her lap. "Mommy..." Anakin croaked. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Mommy is working very hard. But she misses you very much and can't wait to be home with you again." Whether this was true or not, he could not say, but he knew it was what his children needed to hear. There were many things from which he could not protect them, but he would certainly die trying. A quietness settled on the room, filled with thoughtful sadness. He broke it with an offer: "Why don't we go out to eat for dinner? Let's have a special treat."

Delighted grins exploded across the twins' faces. "Oh yes!" Leia cried, clapping her hands together. "Yes, please, Daddy!"

"I want to go!" Luke crowed gleefully, bouncing on his feet.

The smile Anakin offered in return was weak and half-hearted. "Elay, could you get the children ready, please? And could you accompany us to dinner?" The nanny nodded her assent, and Anakin kissed Amila on the forehead as he set her on the floor. "I'll make arrangements, and we will leave shortly."

He left the room feeling hopelessly melancholy, knowing that the absence of his wife at dinner would leave a void that could certainly not be filled by anyone else.

* * *

Obi-Wan strode into Anakin and Padmé's apartment at Elay's welcoming invitation. Anakin had shown up on his doorstep unannounced with his somewhat shocking revelation a few weeks prior, but Obi-Wan had heard absolutely nothing from his former Padawan in the time since then. He had contacted the Jedi Temple only to learn that they had not heard from Anakin at all in several days. Elay indicated that her master was waiting for Obi-Wan on the balcony, so he made his way there. Anakin stood stock-still against the Coruscant skyscape, feet spread and hands clasped behind his back. Obi-Wan approached slowly, coming to stand at his old friend's right side.

They stood in silence for a minute or two until Obi-Wan finally genially said, "Nice view you have here."

"Is it?" Anakin grumbled. "I hadn't noticed."

Obi-Wan could sense the turmoil that still wracked Anakin's mind and had, in fact, grown in monstrous proportion to what he had seen weeks ago. "I take it things did not go well."

"You are correct," was Anakin's terse response.

Silence fell once again, but only for a few moments. "Where is she?"

Anakin sighed slowly, the frustration evident in his long huff. "She has not returned from the Senate building since she left the morning after."

Obi-Wan nodded, taking in the information and all its implications. "Has she contacted you?"

"No," Anakin said shortly, his stance still as firm as duracrete. "I visited her. Once. She made it abundantly clear she had no interest in seeing me."

"And the children?"

Anakin only shook his head.

"And you?"

Anakin didn't answer immediately, his eyes trained on some point in the distance. "I saw her on the HoloNet News." Obi-Wan could tell from the tone in his friend's voice that there was more Anakin wanted to say, so he waited patiently as Anakin carefully chose his next words. "She was seen out... with the Senator from Corellia. They had dinner together."

Obi-Wan understood at last. The Corellian Senator Laik Antilles was a very handsome, very rich, very successful, _very_ single young man. He was new to the Senate but had already charmed his way into the hearts of many. Under the current circumstances, a private dinner with this man did not bode well for Anakin and Padmé's relationship. "Oh," was all he could think to say, regretting his inability to offer any sort of comfort to his friend. There was yet another brief pause in the conversation as each man dwelt on his own thoughts.

"I've lost her, Obi-Wan," Anakin whispered, his shoulders slumping.

Obi-Wan frowned. "Come now, Anakin-"

Anakin shrugged away Obi-Wan's disagreement. "It's true. I have. I made a foolish mistake. I ruined us. The HoloNet has been going on for days on end about how Padmé hasn't come home, how she's out with this Senator. People are speculating, whispering, assuming, judging. We've become a laughingstock, and she doesn't seem to care in the least."

"I'm sure she-"

"She doesn't," Anakin interrupted angrily. "She hasn't even checked on the children. She's abandoned us completely."

Obi-Wan sighed, running a hand down his face. "Anakin. You can't give up."

"Why not?" demananded Anakin, turning to face his old Master. "She has. Hasn't she? She refuses to even listen."

"Think about it, Anakin," Obi-Wan said calmly, remembering several similar conversations in the past where his calm patience had been required to settle his agitated Padawan and help him to see reason. "The Padmé you've been seeing recently is not the Padmé you married, is she?" Anakin shook his head, averting his eyes. "There must be some reason. Something is going on. You can't give up on her." Anakin didn't seem entirely convinced, still avoiding Obi-Wan's gaze. "Would she give up on you?"

Anakin's expression finally softened. "No," he answered in a quiet tone. "She wouldn't."

"I warned you that this would be difficult for her," Obi-Wan reminded Anakin softly. "She needed time to work through it on her own. You've given her that time. You must continue to be patient, but you musn't give in." Anakin's brow furrowed as he considered the older man's words in silence. "You've proven to her that she didn't matter, and now you must prove to her that she _does_."

Anakin nodded very slowly as the words settled on him, the impact gentle but quite strong. "You're right, Obi-Wan. You're right."

"Of course I am," Obi-Wan teased easily. "Haven't we had this conversation?" Obi-Wan was pleased by the small smile that played at the corner of Anakin's lips. "I'll go visit her tonight. You go visit her in the morning." He clapped a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "You will get through this, my friend. And I'll do what I can to help."

"Yes, Master," Anakin murmured thoughtfully. "Thank you, Obi-Wan."

"Think nothing of it. But I _do_ want it in writing, that I'm always right."

Anakin's scowl drew a laugh from his old friend.

* * *

"Obi-Wan," she greeted him, her smile warm but suspicious. "What a pleasant surprise."

"It's good to see you as well, Senator Skywalker," Obi-Wan greeted her with a bow, putting a slight but pointed emphasis on her last name. A fleeting frown crossed her features, but she dismissed it quickly.

"Please, have a seat." They settled in the chairs in her office. She kept her professional composure all the while. "Would you like any refreshments?" she offered.

He shook his head and gave her a slight wave. "No, no. Thank you," he declined kindly.

"Very well. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" she inquired, getting right to the point. "It has been quite some time."

"Yes, it has." He allowed half a smirk at her perceptiveness. She was never one to be fooled. "You must know why I've come."

Her eyes narrowed, though her expression remained otherwise unchanged. "I have some idea."

"I can't pretend to know how you feel," he began, "and I am certain your feelings are most justified. However, it's not only Anakin who is suffering from your insistence on distance. It is your children as well."

Her response to his words resembled that of a caged animal. Her discomfort echoed through the Force. "I'm sure they are well, or Elay would inform me otherwise."

"Oh, yes, children are quite resilient. Most of the younglings taken from their families would hardly be seen in common rooms crying or complaining. Becoming a Jedi is quite a privilege, quite exciting, after all. Even Anakin seemed to be adjusting well." He paused for emphasis and to allow her time to consider his words. "I felt a disturbance in the Force one evening and went to his chambers. He was absolutely distraught. I have never seen him cry so." He gave her a very pointed look. "He missed his mother, though he would never admit it to anyone."

Padmé took in a sharp breath and readjusted herself. "Yes, well..."

"I know you are not well, Padmé, and I have some idea why that may be, but only a physician can tell you for certain." He leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. "Please don't allow your hurt and confusion to continue to inflict damage on those children. Or Anakin, for that matter."

"As if he deserves such consideration," she scoffed, her brows furrowing in anger.

"He is your husband," Obi-Wan reminded her. "He is hardly perfect, and we both know he does have many faults, but he does love you, and you both made promises to each other. Surely that is worth something."

She turned her head, refusing to look at him any longer. Her breathing became noticeably heavier. "Yes, well, perhaps he should have considered that as well."

"Hmm," Obi-Wan hummed in a sort of agreement as he settled back in his chair, hand stroking his chin. "I have never been married, myself, but from what I understand, a marriage of two seeking revenge and recompense for every slight is hardly successful."

She said nothing and would not face him, still. He decided he had said enough.

"I'll show myself out," he told her, getting to his feet. "I hope you two can resolve this, one way or another."

He did not look back as he left, and she did not try to stop him.

* * *

Anakin arrived at the Senate building very early in the morning. He was expecting another confrontation with Captain Typho, but the man did not put up a fight, allowing Anakin in to Padmé's small studio apartment almost too easily.

He found her at the counter pouring herself a glass of water, still in her nightgown with no cosmetics covering her angelic face.

"Padmé," he breathed. Her mere presence was like a solid punch to the gut. He had almost forgotten how beautiful she was in the morning, and what it was like to wake up next to her. She looked tired and worn, but she was still so beautiful, nonetheless.

She looked defeated and weary, not cold and calloused as she had been during their last encounter. "Anakin, it's too early for this," she said.

"Please," he begged. "I need to speak with you."

She placed the water pitcher on the counter and turned to face him. "What is it, Anakin?"

He crossed the room slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. The hollow pain he saw in them was enough to break his heart. "Padmé, I can never say that I am sorry enough. I can never make up for what I've done to you. I know that." His next words were hard to force out; his throat felt dry and sandy. "I miss you. I can't live without you. I don't know why I ever made room for the possibility that I might have to."

Her eyes were sad, but he did not see any forgiveness in them just yet. "I..." She seemed to be at a loss for words.

"I saw you." Her gaze was questioning. He swallowed hard. "On the HoloNet News. I saw you with Senator Antilles."

Padmé rolled her eyes and began to turn away from him, but he stopped her with a hand on her waist, pulling her back to him..

"I can't see you with someone else," he said, his voice a low growl. He knew he should stop himself, but he found that his emotions were so strong, he simply couldn't. "I won't. You belong with me."

The fire he knew so well by now lit her eyes. "I thought the same of you," she said coldly, but this time, she didn't wriggle out of his grasp.

"And you were right," he told her. "I can't be with anyone else. I belong with _you_. I love you, Padmé."

"Do you indeed?" was her mocking reply.

"I _do_ ," he insisted harshly. "I need you to believe that."

"I needed you to be faithful, but you couldn't manage that, could you?" she shot back hotly.

"I needed you to let me in, yet you shut me out," he countered without missing a beat.

"Of course, silly me - I forgot that this whole thing was my fault," she retorted with a huff.

"I never said that-"

"You didn't _have_ to!" she cried.

"Padmé-"

"Don't," she cut him off, her voice shaky and weak. She put her hands on his arms as if to push him away, but he evaded her grasp and pulled her closer.

"My love, my angel... Please. Don't leave me," he trembled, fear clutching at his heart. "I know I don't deserve you. I know I hurt you. I know you have every right to leave me. Just... don't. Please."

He felt her shaking in his arms and realized with a start that she was crying. Suddenly, she went limp in his arms, and they sank to the floor together. Her sobs overwhelmed him and sent a vibroblade straight through his chest. He thought any sort of emotion would be better than the coldness she had used to hold him at arm's length. He was wrong. This was worse. This was so much worse.

* * *

 **Hmm, how was that? In the words of my favorite Jedi, "this is where the fun begins."**


	8. Chapter 8

**To all my reviewers, you're amazing, and I adore you. To the guest reviewer, you are absolutely right. And some women experience PPD in the first pregnancy but none thereafter, while some women are fine the first pregnancy and suffer from horrible PPD with the second or subsequent pregnancies. It's a fickle thing. As for you, Angie, and your ever-astute reviews, you're right on the money again. Oh, and thanks for the reminder about Padmé's family. I almost forgot! I wish there was a magic ax, wouldn't it make life much simpler?**

 **Also, for some reason, part of the last chapter got cut out, so there was an abrupt transition between Padmé and Anakin going to see the children. I fixed that.**

* * *

The children were utterly ecstatic to finally see their mother. Padmé cried as the three tiny beings tackled her all at once, but Anakin couldn't tell if her tears were motivated by guilt or love. They begged her not to leave again, but her only response came in the form of the salty streams of regret trickling down her face.

They all went out for dinner, and though Anakin was hesitant to bring Elay, Padmé was insistent that she could come. She wouldn't say so, but he felt her fear through the Force and realized how desperately she felt she needed the help. The dinner was awkward and punctuated by curious stares from those who had obviously been keeping up with the reports on the HoloNet. Luke and Leia were blissfully ignorant of any such scrutiny and filled the time with their incessant, enthusiastic chatter. It was an adequate diversion from the real problems Anakin and Padmé faced, and the practiced smiles they maintained in response to their children's stories and questions presented a satisfactory façade for all observers.

Later that evening, Padmé retired to their chambers rather early. Anakin tucked in the children, read their favorite bedtime story, and kissed them goodnight before joining his wife. Sitting at the vanity brushing her hair, she didn't seem surprised to see him, but she did not exactly exude enthusiasm at the prospect of his company.

He decided not to run from her but respected her feelings by maintaining an appropriate distance, leaning against the far wall watching her. Neither spoke for a long moment until he broke the silence. "I'm glad you've come home," he said to her.

She sighed and paused mid-brush, staring blankly down at the floor. The air crackled with tension as he waited for her response. "I don't know how I feel about this," she admitted at last, returning to her task of brushing out her long, brown curls.

"I understand," he replied, nodding his head slightly.

She directed a short, pointed glare in his direction before turning back to the mirror. "I'm not sure you do."

It was his turn to sigh as he crossed his arms in front of him. "Maybe I don't. But I know how I felt seeing you on the HoloNet parading around with Senator Antilles."

He didn't miss the way she rolled her eyes as she shook her head at his accusation. "That was nothing."

"It didn't feel like nothing, especially considering the way you ignored me for weeks, considering the rumors circulating the galaxy about how we were through and you were moving on." He tried and failed to keep the bitterness out of his voice but found he didn't care whether or not she heard it.

"The healthcare bill didn't pass, Anakin. I needed help convincing the other Senators... someone charming enough to sway them." He saw her eyes dart in his direction in the mirror as she realized the implications of her words.

He took a deep breath before jumping to conclusions and thoughtlessly responding with the strong emotions swirling in his chest. "So you decided to go out to dinner with a _charming_ , single, young Senator _alone_ to talk about a healthcare bill?" He couldn't hide his skepticism and only mildly regretted the way his words came out.

"That's not..." She lay her brush down and stared at it as if it might make sense of the situation for her. "It wasn't like that."

"Were you trying to get back at me?" he pushed, knowing immediately the sort of response the question would elicit.

"No!" she said sharply, rising to her feet abruptly. "I wasn't trying to do anything other than garner support for the-"

"And you didn't think what sort of effect it might have?"

"Of _course_ I knew, Anakin!" She slapped her palm down on the vanity in frustration. Her outburst effectively silenced her husband, and she hung her head and took a deep breath. "I knew what it would look like, Anakin. I wasn't trying to get back at you." He didn't believe her but was afraid to say as much out loud, so he was surprised when she finally, quietly added, "Or maybe I was. I don't know." She shook her head again, and though her eyes were closed, he could see the sad tiredness written across her face in the mirror. "I was hurting... so much, Anakin. More than I ever thought I could. Maybe I did want to hurt you back. I just wanted you to see..."

"You don't have to explain anything," he said, waving his mechanical hand in dismissal. His reply was less about being fair or considerate and more about sparing himself the details. "You don't have to tell me anything that happened."

She turned to face him. The somber resignation in her eyes sent stabs of sorrow through his heart. "Nothing happened, Anakin. We went to dinner. That's all."

He breathed heavily as he pondered her words. Relief and guilt coursed through him all at once. He didn't want for them to be " _even_ ," but the weight of his failure and betrayal pressed down on him all the more so. Where he had buckled, his wife had stood firm in her commitment, even despite having plenty of reason to turn away from him. "I... I don't..." he stumbled over words.

"He had the wrong impression, that much is true," she acknowledged carefully. "But I was sure to correct him. From that point forward, he was very respectful for the rest of the evening." A scowl crossed her face with her next words. "It made no difference; he had no interest in supporting the bill."

He wasn't sure whether to feel sorry that his wife hadn't gained the support she'd hoped for or to feel glad that this was likely the end of their interactions, at least on a private level. Yes, he was a selfish man, especially when it came to what was his, and he was not ashamed to admit it. "I'm sorry, Padmé," he decided to say.

She shrugged, looking away from him. "It's fine. I'll find another way. I'll rewrite the whole bill myself if I have to."

He nodded, considering the subject closed. "I've missed you," he said quietly.

She glanced at him briefly before turning to clean up her vanity. "I am sure," she mumbled so softly, he had to strain to hear her.

"Padmé... I can't say I'm sorry enough."

She froze momentarily then, with a quick shake of her head, continued putting her things away. "No. You really can't."

"But I am going to try."

A frustrated huff escaped her lips. "It's not that easy."

"I never said it was going to be easy-"

"But it's what you expect, isn't it?" She closed the top drawer of the vanity rather aggressively and turned back to him. "Everything is so easy for you. The Hero With No Fear."

He shook his head. "Oh, I assure you, there is much that I fear," he disagreed.

"I don't think you feared enough," she cast another barb at him, heading towards their closet.

"Well, maybe I feared that I might never feel loved again," he returned too quickly. The force behind his words smacked him in the face when she stopped and stared at him with an intensely agonized expression. "I didn't... I didn't mean..." he stammered.

"Oh, but you did," she asserted, tears glistening in her brown eyes. She clenched her fists at her side but otherwise stood stock still. "Do you think you deserved what you took? Was it worth it, Anakin?"

His shoulders slumped, and he took a deep breath, letting his arms fall to his sides. "Padmé..." He wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and erase the past, dissolve this hurt, and fix everything for them. He couldn't take the pain he saw in her eyes - pain _he_ had so carelessly and selfishly inflicted. Everything was mired with uncertainty; his own feelings were muddled and confused, and he found no help in the Force. "If I could go back in time... if I could take it all back... you know I would. Nothing is worth losing you." She was struggling to keep up that strong front she had worked so hard to build for so long, but he could clearly see it crumbling before his very eyes. " _Nothing_ ," he reiterated firmly, looking deep into her eyes.

Nothing but the sound of her ragged breathing and his calm, controlled breaths could be heard in the room for an uncomfortably long time. At last, he said, "I will sleep in the main room, if that is what you wish. I will go wherever you want me to go. I will wait as long as it takes, and I will never give up," he promised adamantly. "Just tell me what you need from me, and it's yours."

She looked him up and down with despondent, worn eyes that were heavily weighed down with unshed tears. "No," she murmured. "You can stay in here." She swallowed. "With me."

His heart skipped a beat, but he was afraid to hope. "Are you _sure_?" he queried, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," she whispered with a small nod.

They climbed into bed together that night for the first time in far too long. Anakin lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, consumed with the desire to just hold her but too choked by fear to even attempt to touch her. Padmé lay curled on her side, facing away from her husband, trembling with silent sobs that did not go unnoticed by Anakin. They hardly slept that night, their bodies too tense and overwhelmed by the exertion required to simply stay still and unmoving, as if that might grant the gift of invisibility. No such relief came for either of them.

* * *

"Mistress?"

Padmé turned in Elay's direction from her position on the balcony. "Yes?"

"There's a visitor in the lobby requesting permission to come up."

Padmé arched an eyebrow in response. "Oh? Who is it?"

"It's your mother, ma'am, and your sister."

Dread filled Padmé's heart at Elay's words. "Oh," she repeated, less enthusiastically this time. "Well. Yes. By all means... send them up."

She waited anxiously in the main room for her guests, wishing Anakin could be present for this most unexpected visit. Surely she might, at least temporarily, escape the interrogation to which she was certain to be subjected if he were there. Admittedly, she had been ignoring and avoiding her family's frequent attempts at communication since the news hit the HoloNet that she and Anakin might be on shaky ground. Wringing her hands, she scrambled in her mind to formulate some sort of response to the questions she knew would inevitably be asked.

"Padmé!" both women called out upon entering the apartment.

"Mother! Sola! How... how good to see you!" she greeted them, though she knew the smile she offered was weak.

Sola immediately took Padmé into her arms and hugged her tightly. "Oh, my sister. It is so good to see you," she breathed.

"Yes, so good to find you at _home_ ," Jobal said pointedly.

"Mother," Sola chided, pulling back from the embrace to cast a pointed glance at the matriarch of the Naberrie family.

"I offer no apology," Jobal insisted, though she came forward and wrapped Padmé in a tight hug that rivaled Sola's. "My dear, you have been a very naughty daughter."

"I know, Mother, I know," Padmé conceded penitently.

Jobal gently pushed her daughter away and examined her carefully at arm's length. "What has been going on? It's been impossible to reach you."

Padmé flushed, stepping back and turning and taking a few steps away from her mother. She clasped her hands in front of her. "Mother... It's a long story."

"Well, it's a good thing I've come a long way to hear it in person," her mother rebutted, her voice teasing and gentle but full of concern.

"She's right, Padmé," Sola chimed in. "The last time you behaved like this, we found out you were married to your not-boyfriend and having his twins."

The tightness in Padmé's chest worsened. "Yes..." She tried to speak, but her voice trailed away.

"And what's this about the Senator from Corellia?" her mother pressed.

Padmé did not immediately answer. Sola stepped forward and placed a hand on her sister's shoulder. "Padmé," she asked softly, "what's going on?"

Padmé turned to face her mother and sister, but as soon as she saw the love and worry on their faces, she burst into tears. The two strong women pulled her into another embrace, offering their unconditional love and support, though they knew not how troublesome the situation had become.

* * *

 **So if this sounds off, it's cuz it's rather forced. I kicked my muse and tried to put her to work, but she was pretty unwilling.**


	9. Chapter 9

**I'm bout ready to scream y'all. I had some beautiful words flowing and then my computer spazzed and it's gone. -_- So I hope this is passable.**

 **ANYWAY. To my reviewers. I appreciate you, you're all beautiful, etc. etc., I'm sorry for failing you with my lack of updates, but I will try to do better! I wasn't going to take any summer classes, but then I did (ugh) but next week is finals (yes, I should be studying, but that's besides the point), and then I'm free! Hopefully I finish this up before summer ends cuz nursing clinicals is gone be cray.**

 **Onward to our happy ending! (Y'all know I love happy endings.)**

* * *

Jobal and Sola sat patiently on each side of Padmé, each holding one hand as they waited for the tears to subside. As the sobs slowed, Padmé closed her eyes and took a deep breath to brace herself. "I'm sorry," she apologized under her breath.

"For what?" Jobal scoffed. "Being vulnerable? Don't you dare apologize for being vulnerable with the ones you love you best."

 _Vulnerable_. Padmé couldn't remember the last time she had felt comfortable being vulnerable with anyone close to her, though she couldn't find the words to say so.

"Padmé," Sola said softly, "please tell us what's going on."

Padmé wished she could tap into the strength of these loving and resilient women, women who had raised her to be as mighty as they. She felt she was failing them miserably. "I can't," she admitted. "I wish I could, I do. I just... I don't know how to explain. It's been building since Amila was born. I don't love her like I should. I am a failure. I am a failure as a wife, as a mother, as a Senator..."

"That's not true," Sola interjected. "You are amazing, Padmé, and we are so proud of you every day. You should see Dad's smile every time he sees your face on the HoloNet. His smile could light the whole galaxy brighter than any star might."

Her sister's words nearly brought on another flood of tears. "If only he knew the truth... he would be so disappointed."

Jobal looked down and rubbed gentle circles into the back of Padmé's hand. "I fear I know exactly what is wrong, my dear."

Padmé sniffled with an involuntary hiccup. "What do you mean?"

Sola hung her head as well and squeezed Padmé's hand tighter. "I think I know what Mom means."

Padmé stared at her mother questioningly until her mother finally met her eyes. "There's a certain... affliction that befalls some women after the birth of a child. I experienced such after you were born."

"What?" Padmé said dumbly.

"It happened to me, too. After Pooja was born," Sola added. "Nothing I did felt good enough. Some days, I couldn't get out of bed."

Padmé's head swiveled back and forth between her mother and sister. "How did I not know this?"

Jobal bit her lip then sighed. "It's not something people speak about," she explained quietly.

"It's a mental condition," Sola clarified. "Some might... well, some might think you're unstable. You know how they treat people on our planet when they are not sound of mind."

"But there's nothing wrong with me," Padmé denied vehemently. "I've never suffered any sort of mental... anything. At all. Ever."

"You've withdrawn, Padmé," Sola pointed out. "We hardly hear from you. You hide from us. And judging from those rumors on the HoloNet, you're hiding from Anakin too."

At the mere mention of his name, a heavy weight settled in Padmé's chest. A fresh wave of tears spilled down her cheeks. "You don't understand." She pulled her hands away and buried her face in them. "You don't know..."

Jobal rested a hand on Padmé's knee. "I did the same with your father. He thought I hated him, but I was afraid of him. I thought he was disappointed in me. I thought he didn't want me anymore," she told her daughter. "I didn't want to hear him telling me what I knew to be the truth: that I was an utter failure at every single thing I tried to do."

Something between a gasp and a cry escaped Padmé's lips, but her mother and sister wouldn't let up.

"Same for me," Sola agreed. "I thought Darred would leave me. And when I wasn't thinking that, I was hating him and wishing he would. I broke more than a few plates in those days. Thankfully, I never actually hurt him."

"He cheated on me," Padmé burst out, balling her hands into fists and slamming them down on her lap. "He _betrayed_ me." She found she was satisfied with the expressions of shock on their faces at her revelation. "So anything I thought about him, I was right. I am _not_ enough for him. I never was."

"Darling..." Jobal ran a cool hand down Padmé's hot, wet cheek. "There must be more to it than that."

Padmé's face crumpled as she turned to her mother. "So you agree with him then? You think it's my fault."

"I didn't say that," Jobal disagreed, her voice even and controlled. "I'm saying there has to be more to the story. I saw the way that man loved on you. I saw the way he fawned on you, fell all over you, even before you saw it yourself." Padmé looked down at her lap, for being reminded of the way things once were hurt her heart. "You brought him home, and you blushed when we teased you, but you wanted him as much as he wanted you. I saw how he cared for you after the birth of your children. You hardly had to lift a finger. He was the most attentive father I have ever seen. He _loves_ you, my dear. He truly loves you."

Sola nodded at her mother's words. "The entire galaxy saw it. That's why they embraced you so. It wasn't just because you represented the change everyone so desperately wanted to see. It's because you were so in love - even after being together for some years."

"So what are you saying?" Padmé demanded, hardly able to bear being pummeled with reminders of Anakin's love for her.

"I'm _saying_ ," her mother said gently but pointedly, "that perhaps in your condition, you were pushing him away without intending to do so."

"Maybe throwing some plates at him?" Sola suggested with a humorless half-smile.

Padmé burst into sobs as the entire weight of her actions in this catastrophe fell on her shoulders. She had been denying what had been staring her dead in the face all along: she was equally as responsible as Anakin. No more, no less, but just as much to blame. She had been punishing him since then because she didn't want him to see that she wasn't worth this headache, this heartache, this fight, this struggle. She didn't want him to leave. It was such an odd and difficult position in which to be, to need someone near but want them as far away as possible.

"I wouldn't... I couldn't... let him love me," she sobbed, falling onto her mother's shoulder. "I couldn't let him see me like this."

"Oh, my darling," her mother said, wrapping her arms around her daughter tightly. "That's what marriage is. It's being there through the good and the bad, supporting one another through weakness, and choosing to love one another despite the hardships."

Padmé nodded, unable to get any more words out. Sola smoothed Padmé's hair with a loving tenderness Padmé didn't know she had been needing. "This isn't your fault, Padmé," she soothed. "You didn't know. But now you can get better. You have to take care of yourself before you can take care of other people."

"Please... please just stay with me," Padmé begged, sounding pathetic to her own ears but hardly caring anymore.

"Of course, my dear," Jobal said, kissing her daughter's forehead. "Of course."

* * *

Anakin was surprised to see his wife's family members in their home when he returned from his outing with the children, but he hid his bewilderment quite admirably. Padmé realized he probably thought she had called for reinforcements. Little did he know they were there to help _him_.

After a comfortably peaceful family dinner spent catching up on everything but for the obvious _real_ issue plaguing the family, Anakin and Padmé retired to their room while grandmother and aunt enjoyed time with the children.

When the door slid shut behind Padmé, Anakin turned to face her with an expression of chagrin. "Padmé, I'm sorry-"

She held up a finger to silence him. "Please. Don't be. They're not here to beat you down," she promised him. His shoulders relaxed noticeably at her assurance.

"Then why-?"

"They're here for _me_ ," she explained, crossing the room to enter the closet. He followed her and stood learning against the door frame.

"What do you mean?"

She sighed, removing her dress to hang it up. "They recognized that... that I need help, I suppose. That there's something... wrong... with me." She completed her task and turned to face her husband, who stood unmoving with a strange expression on his face. With a start, she realized that she had not been in such a state of undress with him in... a very long time. Quickly, she grabbed a robe and pulled it over her shoulders, wrapping it around her tightly as if it might provide some security. It made little difference. For all the longing in his eyes, he did not attempt to advance but maintained a respectful distance. When he looked into her eyes, she could only imagine what she saw. She struggled in vain to hide her discomposure but knew he could easily sense her emotions through the Force. Abruptly, he turned on his heel and disappeared from the doorway. She let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and hurried after him.

He was standing in the middle of the room, facing away from her, his arms crossed in front of him.

"Anakin," she breathed.

He wouldn't budge so she slowly made her way around him, giving him a wide berth, until she stood in front of him. Still, he avoided her gaze.

"I'm sorry," she apologized sincerely.

"Don't do that," he snapped rather harshly. "You don't have anything to apologize for."

"But I do," she insisted. "I realized that today... My mother and sister... they helped me realize that." A pregnant pause ensued. "They helped me realize a lot. I've been... different... since Amila was born." Anakin swallowed hard, and Padmé knew she had hit a soft spot. "I didn't mean to, I just..." She cleared her throat, finding her mouth suddenly quite dry. "It's not my fault, and it's not yours, but... there's this huge rift between us..."

He stared down at the floor, still refusing to meet her eyes. "I just... I just want to touch you, but... but I can't."

Her heart pounded in her chest, and every bone in her body wanted to flee, but she stepped closer to him, anyway. "You can," she gave him permission.

"Padmé..." He didn't step away but leaned back, casting his eyes up, to the side, anywhere but in her direction.

"I want you to." She took his ungloved flesh hand in hers and lay it on her waist. "Please."

His eyes finally met hers, and she saw such an intense fire in them that strangely sent chills down her spine. She still wanted to run. She wanted to run so badly, but she stayed rooted to the spot, fighting her overpowering inclinations. His hand moved up to touch her face, and she froze. She was absolutely terrified. She wanted to lash out and hurt him and push him away; she didn't want to feel this weakness, this vulnerability. She didn't want to get hurt again.

"I won't," he swore, confusing her for a moment before she remembered he could see her every thought and feeling through the Force. She was and had always been naked and exposed before him. "I won't ever hurt you again. I swear to you."

She wanted so badly to believe him, but the fear burned in her chest with such an unbearable intensity, and yet... she didn't flee from him.

"May I?" he whispered.

She didn't need Force powers to know what he meant. She nodded her head mutely, and as if in slow motion, his head dipped to meet hers, and then his lips were on hers, and every single thought in her mind vanished immediately. With his other arm, he pulled her close, hugging her to him tightly as if he feared she might slip from his grasp again. Suddenly, she realized she didn't want to. She didn't want to go anywhere. With his mouth on hers, with his unmistakable and all too familiar taste, she suddenly realized that she was home.

* * *

 **Forgive me yet? Well, I hope so ;) But I ain't done, so stick around!**


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